Reset.

Its a hard thing, this life. It's hard to balance. It's hard to maintain. It's easy to lose perspective. It's easy to numb things away. It's easy to let yourself go. It's easy to not deal. It takes work to feel the shitty things no one wants to feel. It takes work - hard work - to let go of the things we hold on to that ultimately ruin us. The things that eat us up and spit us back out in worse shape than we could've ever imagined. Hard to let go of the anger and the rage and the hatred for things that have fucked with us - that continues to ruin us. But only because we let it continue to do so. 

I miss the living hell out of my brother and my Dad. I am still angry that my ex who left me 4yrs ago did so. I am angry about my stupid knee injury that makes me feel so limited in some things. I am still mad that my family was so dysfunctional growing up. These things are killing me quickly. Most especially missing my brother and my Dad. When Andrew died I drank. And drank. And drank. Don't feel, just keep going. When Dad died I just didn't feel. 6 mos between the two...I refused to feel. I couldn't. Now I have to because it has caught up with me. It started catching up with me a few months back. Morgan leaving has caused me to have to feel things I never wanted to feel again. Loss. Loss of love. Loss of my best friend. Loss of my closeness with her. For two weeks I've been trying not to feel anymore. It isn't working. Today I allowed myself to be a mess. To fall apart. To feel as shitty as I possibly could because tomorrow is a new day and that isn't happening anymore. I've got some hard work to do, but god damnit I'm going to be happy. Fuck existing - living seems like so much more fun....and since Andrew and Dad can't, I'm going to. I love you, A. I love you, Pops. I love you, Morgan. And most importantly: I love you, self. 

Start.

So today I made my bed. For some reason it felt really good. Like I had done something normal and adult like. Sounds weird I'm sure, but it felt good to peel my down comforter back when I came to bed tonight and situate my pillows. Like turn down service at a fancy hotel. Whatevs. 

My fourth was super relaxing. Laid in bed for a super long time, tidied up the apartamento, ate for the first time in 3 days (yummy Cuban food with my pal Renee), stopped at a party for a bit and then came home and watched fireworks from the Rooftop of the building next to mine (my rooftop attracts some hoodlums this time of year)

Tomorrow will consist of gymming and 2 different parties before watching fireworks right over my head. Just to let everyone know, it still sucks to be dumped. I lost 10lbs (weighed in this am) aaaaaaaaand am gonna use that slight bit of "go me!" to fuel my motivation for the gym. I'm excited. I gots tons of plans for this week of stuff that needs to be taken care of - that I'm stoked to accomplish. Yes yes yes - go me :)

Forward

Two weeks ago I was looking forward to celebrating my (now ex :( ) girlfriend's 30th birthday with her and worried about my cat who had shown some signs of having something wrong with her tummy. Today I am single and my mind is doing that awesome thing that only women going through a break up are capable of doing - making the worst of everything. I've decided that shit simply is not going to work for me. Why should I be sad while she's out having fun? That's not fair. So here will be a bucket list of things I want to do or start making a habit of:

1) go to the gym....even though it sucks...5 days a week

2) photograph everything I can - even if people don't dig it

3) de clutter the hell out of my life. Why is all this shit just hanging around, any damn way?

4) make my bed everyday. Why? Because one day (even though I hope it'll be my current ex) someone will be in it with me and I'll want it to look neat. 

5) volunteer somewhere in the community weekly. 

6) find a day trip spot and go once a month....take the dog with me :)

7) blog every day about how much it sucks to try and lose weight or be dumped or how delicious my dinner was or whatever the hell else I feel like talking about 

8) do things I previously found aversive example: on Wednesday I am going to catholic mass with a friend. I'm excited about this because I am hopeful for a new and different experience as a result of giving it a second try.

9) make and use cool stuff like sugar scrubs and egg/mayo hair conditioner

10) learn to know that although there's been too much loss in my life - nothing lasts forever and everything changes. 

Aftermath.

That's the best way I can put it after yet another family member does....aftermath. So much to do. So much to sort out....so much to not argue over. So much to mourn. So much sadness. For me, in all of this, is a beacon of light - my little brother. The most upstanding of all people I could ever imagine. A good heart. A love for all. A sound mind. A good fucking kid. The best I could ever imagine. I have not enough positive words to describe him except for the fact that if you're lucky enough to know him, you're lucky enough. A gem of gems. He kept my dad alive and comfortable for so long. He worked hard. He did what he didn't think he could do...and I couldn't be more proud to say that he is my brother. For the tumultuous , horrific past 6 mos we both have had....he held it down like a damn soldier. He is my personal hero and I love him. When the aftermath has settled you see who's there....and there he is. I love you, Little Man...although you aren't so little anymore. You have my deepest love, respect and admiration.

Dad.

So, some times people have what I view as a normal life. My life has never consisted of anything normal. Trauma for my older brother and I when we were young - early use of substances (mostly drinking for me)...constant fighting between our parents....constant fighting between our parents.We took really long trips over the summer that were pretty elaborate and we didn't always get along on those trips - but to me, they were my outlet from the dysfunction that sat within the car doors with me. I always wanted a settled family, but depression, alcohol use/abuse and mental illness does not bode well for anything "normal".

Andrew. My older brother Andrew died on October 21, 2012 from an apparent drug overdose. The phone call I received that Sunday morning at 5am still haunts me. He had his demons but certainly was never malicious. He loved all, but I don't think he ever really loved him self. He and my father had a very tumultuous relationship that got increasingly worse over the years.Dad had Andrew arrested countless times - which just broke our family apart even more each and every single time.

Ryan. He's a great kid. Lots of potential. Smart as a whip. Very talented photographer. Sweet as can possible be. I love this kid to no end. I always have and I always will.

Dad. My Dad mostly treated me like I was the son he didn't have because I would go out and shoot pictures with him, or play garage door bingo, or take trips with him when the boys didn't want to. We went to London, California, Vegas, Pennsylvania...all of which I remember vividly. We could also banter back and forth about him being an avid Red Sox fan and myself being an avid Yankees fan. He was never warm and fuzyy and he pushed me to just get it done...just finish school, Kari...just apply for that next job, Kari....just keep going - you'll be finished one day and wish you were back in school. For all that he every said to me that was less than compassionate is this gem: the difference between success and failure in life is how you deal with difficult personalities. It has become something I hold on to all the time.

Dad. I am sorry that you won't see me get married. I'm sorry that you won't meet the child that I will one day bring in to this world. I'm sorry you won't get to see my graduate with my PhD....I know you have always wanted me to do that. I'm sorry that we never made it to Yankees Stadium together like we wanted to. I'm sorry we wont drive red convertibles in California or eat at Carl's Junior anymore and I wish I had taken them a bit more serious at the time. I'm sorry there won't be anymore early wake ups to get the best shots of the sweet light wherever we may be traveling. I'm sorry we'll never play black jack together again - especially since you're the one who taught me. I'm sorry we won't snowmobile anymore or stay up late in the pub and sing along to all of our favorite songs. Although we didn't have a great relationship, and sometimes I didn't even really like you - I did always love you. Seeing you the way you are now breaks my heart into a million pieces. You are so young - you should still have so many years left in you. It breaks my hears that you may not. I hate seeing you cry - because there have been minimal if any times I have ever seen you do so.

I promise you the following things:
1) I will go to Yankee stadium and I will watch my boys play and I will bring you a souvenier
2) I will finish my PhD
3) I will continue on my crusade for good
4) I will make sure Erin and Ryan are always taken care of
5) I will drive a red convertible up and down the entire PCH
6) I will make sure that if I ever have a child, that I take them to all of the places you took me
7) I promise to never stop wanting to change the world
8) I promise I will always be a democrat
9) I promise you'll always be my Pops
10) I promise I will always love you

I need you to know these things before anything else happens...I hate that you are sad, I hate that you are in pain, I hate that you are confused, I hate that you are uncomfortable, I hate all of this for you....but I will always love you - you can always count on that. After all, we have the same initials.

Nativity.

Well alrighty. I haven't blogged since January - which is unfortunate since so many things (amazing and heartbreaking) have happened in that time. However, when I sat down to blog tonight, I wanted to do a blog about a modern day analysis of the Nativity. I cannot do this in many other public forums because I do not choose to offend people of faith (which would not be intentional here, but I could see how it may come across that way). I went with my dear friend Kim tonight and her parents to see the Nativity Pageant at the Carillon...it was really beautiful, and I forgot how I love the music fitting in to it. Anyway - I haven't seen it since I was a kid...and I didn't think to pick it apart and tease out all the weirdness happening in the story..I was talking to Kim about it after and the following ideas came as a result.

(***let me set the stage here, it is two nights before Christmas, I am sitting on my chaise lounge, next to the warm glow of my gorgeous 7 foot tree, and listening to the "Sounds of the Season" channel on cable***)aaaaand go:

1) If a girl came to us today and told us she was a virgin, but was with child of the breath of God, we would look at her like she was a delusional girl of ill repute. Seriously. You mean to tell me you've never had sex, yet some angel came and bestowed a child upon you because you are in "good graces with God"? Really? I'm not sure how I would respond to this - probably with a very cautious call to the local crisis unit for a mental status exam. She would also probably end up on either an MTV show or a Lifetime movie: "16 and Immaculately Conceived"

2) If I were Joseph, and the aforementioned girl came to me (as my wife) and told me she was pregnant, but I knew it wasn't mine - I would be HIGHLY suspect. (*Maury voice* "JOSEPH: you are NOT the father.") How did this man just go along with it? I don't understand. I would have been livid. He's a better man than I would be, I guess. Just went with her, there was the kid, he didn't ask questions. That's a trusting husband.

3) Oh these Three Wise Men. If you were so wise, you would know that frankincense (smoking smell good stuff), myrrh (perfume) and gold (heavy and dangerous) do NOT...repeat: DO NOT belong at a baby shower. I don't get their thinking behind this. Diapers, a pacifier, burping cloth...y'know...

4) Why, in the story, do they continue to refer to Jesus being wrapped in "swaddling clothes"? Of COURSE you're going to swaddle your baby - it's calming. I won't go in to the importance of sensory input in children, but that's what's happening when you swaddle babies...it's necessary to growth, development, and calm. Why can't we just refer to it as Jesus' onesie? I mean - that's pretty much what it was, right? This story needs some updating I think. Jesus is in the hay, kickin'  it in his onesie. It most likely had a cross on it. Or a sheep.We'll go with a sheep. No...it would say "WWJD?" Yes, that sounds about right.

I hope that I haven't offended anyone, but looking at it as a grown up, and not as a person of deep (if any) religious faith - I felt like it needed some more clarification. I hope everyone (whoever even reads this - so all one of you) has a wonderful, safe and very happy holiday. If you're traveling, be safe...if you're not, be happy...and if you're drinking, make sure someone takes your phone before you drunk text.

Permission.

So...something that has bothered me for a VERY very very long time is how we, as a society, are obsessed with trivializing one another's problems. For example: if I come to a friend with a gripe or complaint, I know that my problems can always "be worse". Of course I am grateful for not missing a limb, having all of my immediate family members with me, having a job, roof over my head, food, friends, love, etc.etc.etc., but when did it become so wrong for people to feel how they feel? When did it become so wrong to just have a good, old fashioned bitch session? When, and why, did we stop giving people permission to feel exactly how they're feeling, at exactly that moment, and meet them where they are instead of trying to take it away from them? It's time that we stop taking that away from people and start giving them what they are looking for - validation for their feelings.

If I get up in the morning and bitch about how I don't want to get out of the bed - I don't want to be met with some nonsense about how at least I woke up. Of course I'm happy that I woke up - of course I am grateful to have all that I have - I was just making a bratty little comment about having to get out of a warm bed (which, if you don't hate THAT feeling, then you're lying to yourself and everyone around you). So - the next time someone comes to you with a complaint, a vent, a sad story, a need for a listening ear...please PLEASE do not remind them that it can "always be worse"....just listen, validate their feelings, let them get it off their chest and then.....remind them that you love them.